Convectus: The Search Begins

Summary: In the end, what always prevails? What light sits with us until those last moments? Most people would say love, hope, or even faith ... but in reality, anything can happen.

The Witch, The Ghoul, and The Sixty-First Time

... Secrets.
They are, perhaps, amongst the most peculiar things spoken by the
general public. Probably because they can be both a burden and joyful
surprise, and they can come in any shape or form whatsoever. They can
be minuscule, and they can be gargantuan. They can be exceedingly
convoluted mazes, fit only for the greatest of minds to decipher, and
they can be as simple as one-word answers.

But wherever
there are secrets, there are one of two things lurking behind them;
brilliant euphoric filled surprises, or horrid revelations. And call
it coincidence, but we start our story with, perhaps, what is known
as one of the largest secrets ever conceived. Monstrous minds, from
even the worst corners of the world, couldn't hold a candle to the
secret we start with tonight. A secret so important, that if known,
it would affect the balance of the world in the most grandest of
ways. Be it for the worst, or the best. Yes secrets are indeed
powerful things – mirroring the strength of lies almost entirely.
Lies, you see, are identical to secrets in almost every way. Every
way except for one: with a lie, you can protect yourself through more
lying. And there is, after all, no limit to how much one can lie. So
maybe it comes as no such surprise that to keep the most secure
secret in the world, you would have to lie one way or another. And
that's exactly what happened … or rather is happening again.

We start this
magnificent hybrid of both lie and secret in the southern most
village of Sera. In a quaint little village called Watsonford, which
refers to itself as the last town one could hope to seek refuge in
before hitting the Seran sea, where nothing but miles of open ocean
separates Sera and the next country, Fringrad. The village held only
seven small cobbled stoned paths surrounding an average sized village
square. The rest were simple dirt paths – worked dirt paths, mind
you, but dirt paths nonetheless. But that didn't stop the village
builders from creating fantastically large and weird and
architecturally wonderful houses upon the villages founding. Houses,
of which, ended up being gifted to the families of each of the said
builders as a token of appreciation from the village’s minister –
they could build hundreds of houses to suit the other residents in
the future. After all, they had enough streams of incoming resources
from all the greatest cities in the country; a few houses being
gifted wouldn't go amiss. These builders, however, only hoped that
the new railroads being created would eventually reach them. All
their needs, you see, were met by nothing more than a horse and
carriage – not quite up to the pace of trains.

Now, several
decades on, the village had spread round these large houses and grew
to the grand splendour of a thriving town. So it held the normal
amenities like a sweet store or a bakers or a café. Even a court
house, though one wouldn't refer to that as an amenity. Those
railroads, though, hadn't even touched the southern edge of the
Evergray Mountain ranges, let alone brushing near the town. Needless
to say, the town got on without speedy incoming resources. After all,
when one has both an entire forest before them and miles of mountains
packed full of copper, coal and the raw ore of metal, there isn't
really any need for incoming goods. The town got on just fine.

Getting back to
those original houses, though, sat nestled in the middle of the group
was one in particular. You could call it even more of a singularity
seeing as it was build using a gargantuan oak tree as support for one
of its sides. It held five jigsaw like flights and on the upper most
two, balconies worked into the trunk of the tree could be seen. The
builder whom held the deed for this house evidently let his or hers
imagination run wild. Large stone pillars held up the third highest
jigsaw floor, and below that, the second was just one large circular
level atop the ground floor, which was a simple square in shape.

Yes this was a
unique home. One which held the complete and undivided attention of
two people. Though, they weren't what you would call 'normal' people,
by any means. One was of the legendary race of witches and wizards.
The other, of the mysterious race of the ghouls. Two of the more
prominent species in the world – behind humans of course. And these
two specifically were of a more notable importance. The witch was
apparently young, an old experienced face hiding behind twenty or so
years of age at least; if her shoulder length snow white hair, small
scar on her upper left cheek, experienced grey eyes and small coy
smirk was anything to go by. Though she showed no sign of old bones
or frailty, she leant gently on a small vinyl black cane. She adorned
sleek robes that held a mixture of black, grey and lavender all under
a long leather overcoat she wore proudly.

The other stood
far more regally in satin black robes that were hidden under a thick
black hooded cloak. The shape of a sheathed sword could be made out
from under said cloak. His hair, gleaming auburn, was tied back to
hide it further. One could make out the slight hint of a lightly
coated stubble chin sitting with a perfectly shaped face under the
hood.

They were both
staring at one of the large houses. The mage, with a face of boredom;
the ghoul with slight content. They had both been standing there for
quite a time, if the quarter moon high in the night sky was anything
to go by. That and the golden clock tower in the middle of town
having just past striking ten.

The witch shifted
slightly in her stance and swapped her cane to the other hand before
speaking.

“If this turns
out to be false, I already have a few choice words for our late
friends,” she rumbled in a low voice. She wasn't one for speaking
often but when she did, it was always with an intent which rarely
went unfulfilled.

The ghoul moved
his head slightly and with marvellous emerald coloured eyes, peered
at the witch.

“Have faith,
Florence. We would not be here if I had any doubt,” he told her
polity before closing his eyes. The ghoul spoke with a stark contrast
to the witch. Light, lithe and undeniably holding back a molten hot
resolve which could inspire anyone.

The now named
Florence waved him away.

“Oh I've got
plenty faith, Arnaro,” she bustled in an irritated voice, “but
that doesn't mean I have any qualms about standing for hours on end
for nothing. How long has it been now I wonder? Hold on, let me just
check my watch – three hours! I dread to think standing here for
anything past five.”

“And we won't,”
the now named Arnaro stated with slight annoyance. “The fact of the
matter remains, we must conclude our findings to be correct before
leaving. If you wish to take your leave, fine by me. Just be sure to
drop by the city at some point.”

Florence huffed
and they both fell back into silence. This was the way they both
conferred with each other normally. As friends to the ends of the
earth they were, they sometimes found each other extremely if not
hilariously irritating. Though, that could be in part to the quite
unusual predicament they found themselves currently in. Now obviously
they both didn't doubt that the other held nothing but wise words to
give. After all, who would doubt the words of a wise sorceress or an
ancient immortal ghoul. But given the current circumstances they were
in, even the words of kings and queens would be like holding a candle
to the sun.

The witch
squinted her eyes and searched the open window of what must have been
the living room of the house before them. The street lamps lit by gas
flames gave the impression that the two were shrouded, standing just
off the street and slightly into a small woodland area. Florence was
thankful for that due to the fact that she couldn't be bothered with
the countless asks of her magical prowess which would undoubtedly
occur if she were seen. She was well known in the world. The same
could be said for Arnaro as well. He, too, was well known and if
anybody caught sight of the ghoul lord they would undoubtedly have a
police force around them in no time. Though, that thought didn't
worry the ghoul lord in the slightest.

“What do you
think?” asked Florence suddenly. Her eyebrows knitted together in
concern as she looked sidelong at the ghoul.

Arnaro shifted
slightly but kept his eyes lightly closed.

“I cannot say
for sure as of yet. Perhaps Sosfin will hold answers,” he told her.

“Let's hope,”
replied the witch and they both fell back into a comfortable silence.

It has to be
said, this was the first time for Florence. She evidently felt a
slight niggling of nervousness bite her mind here and there, and her
stomach did flips from time to time, and she was normally so good
with her nerves; but that didn't stop them running rampant tonight.
She could take standing around for hours on end, she'd actually
waited about half a day during one of the coronations a couple years
back, but even that paled in comparison to this. That was just a
simple coronation, this was something far more. And even though she
still didn't hold all the pieces of the puzzle, she held just enough
to realise what they're being here tonight meant.

Florence's eyes
flickered slightly when movement came from within the house they were
staring at. A woman, moving very slowly holding the hand of a toddler
walking unsteadily, was making her way into the front sitting room of
the oak-tree-built house they were both staring at. It didn't take a
ghouls eyes to see the small child struggling to stay awake, but his
eyes did hold a heavy tiredness in them. The woman moved slowly
towards a warm armchair, being mindful to keep her watchful eyes on
the child’s every step. She helped him into the chair and she sat
next to him. The boy, aside from his weariness, seemed to brighten up
as his mother took a rather vibrant crimson book from the shelf next
to them. She started reading from where they last left off, placing
the wooden-dragon book mark back on the shelf.

Now one would be
forgiven for being rather bewildered or confused upon seeing these
two ancients watching carefully a simple mother with her small early
years old child. But there was a very good reason for that. The
interest they held came not from the mother, but from the child she
sat alongside. It wasn't every day that a child attracted the
attention of high end people, let alone a ghoul lord and witch. But
this particular one did.

Arnaro slowly
opened his eyes and took a gander up at the moon, figuring out
exactly what time it was. He preferred this method over using the
clocks being widely used in the world, such was his love for the old
ways. He returned his eyes back to the window with a non-existent
smile.

“Won't be long
now,” he said patiently.

Florence sighed
with relief.

“Glad to hear
it. My legs are starting to get stiff,” she said, swapping hands
with her cane again.

“Just out of
curiosity,” started Arnaro, as casually as he could, “do you
think it's true? Do be honest, too, I rather like having another
opinion to play with.”

Florence looked
up at the ghoul.

“...I'm not so
sure,” she said after a pause. Florence really wasn't the one to be
asking for this sort of stuff and, quite frankly, she hated the
aspect of people putting their trust in her – she despised the idea
of letting the countless who did, down. “I really cannot say. I
mean, I hope it is. I wouldn't like to think we need to restart our
global search again after getting so close. That'd be a killer.”

“Yes, it would
be,” Arnaro hummed in agreement. Though, he turned to her, a smirk
finding its way onto him, and lightly nudged her shoulder and asked,
“Really? Nothing? The second seated Secretary of State doesn't have
a real answer?”

Florence shoved
him in return.

“Grow up. I
can't help it if I'm at a loss when it comes to this,” she said
while scowling, though it didn't do much in terms of looking
aggressive. “Give me a Cabinet meeting with the other Secretaries
over this any day.”

“What about the
Monarchies?”

Florence returned
a deadpan stare.

“I think I'd
rather keep my sanity, thank you. There's already enough Kings and
Queens in that city, getting them all into one room alongside the
Ministers of the State; that's a concoction lethal for anyone.”

They both,
however, stopped dead and suddenly lurched back further into the
shadows when some of the locals were headed towards them. Apparently
it was someone’s birthday because these three were rather merry in
their talking, probably due to the alcohol which both Florence and
Arnaro could smell.

“Can't believe
it, won't believe it, never will!” said one loudly, almost tripping
in his walk.

“Well get used
to it. They're taking him,” said another one, a woman.

“Idiots. What's
the point-”

“Because they
were good friends with his family.”

“What's …
what's the little guy’s name?” asked a third while hiccupping.
The woman slung a hand over his shoulder.

“Hern from what
I heard.”

“Well good for
h-him. Now let's try to get home safely,” said the first man,
putting a hand on his belly, “I don't think my stomach liked that
sherry.”

“Sounds like
you said lightweight!” laughed another, and they walked on round
the curving street and vanished.

Florence and
Arnaro, who had been all but silent during the exchange, each took a
slow step forward. The ghoul seemed to mentally tut at seeing people
in that a state. Being of the regal and highest of ghouls, he
generally didn't hold with such nonsense. And it irritated him how
similar they were to some of the ghouls back in the capital during
certain events. Florence, however, let a warm chuckle escape her
lips.

“Humorous,
these people,” she said, gently turning to look at the ghoul.
Having been friends with humans and discovering that they were
extremely intelligent as a race did only good things for their
appearance; windows, gas lighting, steam machines which could do
countless things, trains! They were by far the best in the ingenuity
of brewing inventions. It was something which Arnaro found to be one
of their only redeeming traits.

The ghoul nodded
plainly at the witches words.

“That they are.
Much the same as all humans, I expect.”

“The mistake ghouls
make,” started Florence condescendingly, “is thinking that all
humans have the
same mannerisms and same thoughts and feelings. They're just as
different as you and me.”

“Let's not
sully the evening, dear friend. I had a rather abrupt conversation
with the Minister of Banifell during my recent visit,” said Arnaro
indifferently.

Florence perked
at this.

“I expect much
the same as the time before?”

“I was rudely
expelled and prohibited from ever setting foot within the borders of
the city again by her own words, yes.”

“Thought as
much,” said Florence, brushing a floating leaf away from her. “You
will never get through to the race of humanity when you go barging in
and proclaiming that the ghouls can help them and that they need it.”

“And knowing
our past brutality as a beast like race won't help much I presume,”
Arnaro stated.

Florence grimaced
slightly.

“They'll come
around. Getting back to the point; humans are stubborn and won't
accept help if they don't think it's necessary.”

“Something
which I cannot fathom,” said Arnaro, betraying a little annoyance,
or confusion, or a little of both.

Florence sighed
and put a hand on the ghouls shoulder.

“Perhaps I
could be of assistance in your next visit? You know what I'm like
with these things.”

The ghoul smiled
genuinely at her and mimicked Florence by putting a hand on the
witches shoulder too.

“I would be
overjoyed at your presence, old friend.” They shared a moment
before returning back to the matter at hand.

Peering back in
the window, they could see the woman still pleasantly reading the
crimson book with the child who was now just starting to nod off next
to her. Another child appeared as well now, an older girl staring
curiously over from her own seat. She, too, held her own book but
where the others were reading what was most likely a fantasy novel,
she was studying relentlessly from a book which probably took an
entire tree to make it had so many pages. In all, your general
picture of perfect serenity. The witch and ghoul watching were about
to start talking again, courtesy of Florence, but stopped upon
hearing two light thumps from behind them. They spun round to meet
the sight they were here for. And about time, too. Standing before
them were two more ghouls – the ones they'd been waiting patiently
for. They were similar in stature to Arnaro and indeed in clothing
also. They even both had the same serene faces, though one seemed far
friendlier than the other. But what put them apart was the hair. The
one on the right had oak coloured brown hair which tumbled down to
his shoulders, while the other had onyx black hair slightly shorter,
just past his ears. If one were to look deeper into the shadows
behind the two newcomers, you would find five more ghouls hidden from
the outside world. Nothing much could be determined of them other
than they all adorned the same armour.

Arnaro spread his
hands slightly with an open smile.

“Welcome. I
trust your trip was unperturbed?”

The ghoul on the
right – the more unfriendly looking one – shifted in learnt sync
before speaking, “No, my lord.”

“Still
flustered at the presence of Arnaro, Maleph?” chuckled Florence.

The ghoul,
Maleph, shifted and stayed in trained silence. Apparently Florence
was correct. It was then that the ghoul on the left – the
friendlier looking, spoke.

“He’ll come
around within the decade I think,” he said with a chuckle.

“I should hope
so,” started Arnaro. “I can't have a ghoul rising through the
ranks that has an inability to refer to myself with my given name
when not in the company of others.” He let his steal emerald eyes
remain on Maleph before looking at the other. “It's good to see you
again, Sosfin.”

The said ghoul
seemed to wave away Arnaro with a honey warm smile.

“Come now, I've
only been gone three weeks. What is that to us?” Sosfin told him
good naturedly. Sosfin always spoke with warmness and kindness.
Florence noted that he was by far the most pleasant to speak too, and
the other ghouls were on to that and started trying to imitate him.
All to no avail obviously.

"Of course,”
said Arnaro before gesturing to the house. “Please join us. We've
just been observing the child in question.”

“So?” asked
Florence in a careful voice. One word which held a great deal more
than a simple question. There was a baited silence. A silence which
felt like standing in thick fog. The witch hated thick atmospheres
and was about to break it when she got an answer.

“Yes,” Sosfin
told them plainly.

“And you're
certain?” Arnaro asked carefully. This wasn't something to be so
casually answered, and the ghoul lord wasn't about to let any
mistakes lumber passed him. “You need to be completely and utterly
sure, Sosfin. Any mistake, and that's it-”

“My conclusion
is well, Arnaro. That is him,” said Sosfin as kindly as he could
manage without leaving room for argument.

Florence hummed
and they all took to examining the window. Simple brown curtains had
been drawn shut, obscuring any clear sight. Though, for some reason
it appeared that said curtains held little effect on the ghouls
present, a slight blurring of the senses maybe. Florence, however,
inwardly cursed her normal eyes.

They didn't say
anything for a moment. Seconds ticked by while they all stared at the
curtains. Many a things running through each of their heads. Although
Sosfin's mind hilariously settled on the many different kinds of tea
he could brew and the different combinations he could try.

The lord ghoul
seemed to take a moment before speaking, as if his next words held a
weight behind them.

“It is the
sixty-first time this concern has troubled us,” Arnaro told them
with a sigh. “It's a wonder we're still here. Somehow, despite the
centuries, Vinerin's grip hasn't loosened in the slightest.”

“I see,”
Sosfin started, his voice unwavering and complacent. “Troublesome
thoughts aren't entirely good for the mind, Arnaro. You shouldn't let
it sit and fester.”

Arnaro gave him
an irritated look. Of course it doesn't trouble him all the time, is
what the ghoul lord thought. He shook his head before saying, “And
it doesn't. It merely concerns me every night we all do this-”

The mentioned
ghoul closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He spoke as
if he were addressing a rude child, “We never know when it will
happen so forgive me for not taking this extended period of peace for
granted.”

“Well then,”
started Sosfin, smiling pleasantly. “It is true, though. It can
happen at any moment. But that doesn't mean to say we should live in
a constant state of anxiety to that fact. Instead, perhaps, we should
continue living without worry. I truly believe that if Vinerin was
about to show face again, we'd know it long before hand.”

Florence, and
even the guards and Maleph, all agreed. Whenever Sosfin decided to
speak, he always spoke with a sense of reason and logic behind him
that no one could dispute, and given the current circumstances,
everyone was more than grateful to hear what he had to say. All, that
is, except for Arnaro.

The ghoul lord
gave Sosfin a blank stare.

“You're meant
to be on my side-”

“Mind
yourselves!” hissed Florence, backing quickly into the darkness
again. The others followed quickly without question. They all
instinctively snapped their eyes back to the window and saw the
reason for the witch’s quick order. The mother within the house was
up and looking through the curtains and out the window. Almost in
sync, all of them stopped and became statues as the woman peered out
for a moment before closing the curtains again, vanishing from their
sight. They stayed put for a moment longer, daring not to move lest
she decided to peek out again.

“Well I believe
that's it,” said Arnaro once it became apparent she wouldn't. “I
will be heading home now. Are you, Sosfin?”

Said ghoul smiled
and nodded.

“Home does
sound divine. I haven't spoken with Flo or Galphino in forever past
an age,” he said pleasantly before turning to the witch. “It was
a pleasure to see you again, Florence. I hope we meet again soon.”

The witch looked
dazed for a moment.

“I didn't think
we would be finished quite that fast,” she said more to herself. “I
will keep check on him then shall I?” she added in more of a
statement than anything else.

Arnaro, who was
silently making his way out, turned before he was just out of hearing
range.

“Unless you
want one of us to do so?” he said with a raised eyebrow.

Florence chuckled
to herself and shook her head.

“I'll stop by
sometime in the future then. Safe travelling, Arnaro.”

And with that,
Arnaro swept his covered robes round and was gone. Sosfin gave the
witch one last smile before he, too, disappeared, giving the other
ghouls present an unspoken order and they then disappeared into the
night as well, leaving the witch completely alone.

Florence
hesitantly looked back at the house and her eyes glazed over
slightly. Heck, she was actually happy in the end to be in the
position she was. If it gave her the ability, and the responsibility,
to be here, she wouldn't trade anything for it.

She chuckled
before saying, “Sixty-one … and counting…”

She turned and
vanished into the night, leaving nothing of their intentions behind.
Intentions which centred, for some reason, on one child. One boy.

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Deleted User:
This is a very clever story in the style of 19th century (and turn of the century) Gothic writing, very reminiscent of Stevenson's The Body Snatchers or even of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (less so of Frankenstein itself, since the author is more minimalist than Shelley's florid, Romantic rhetoric). ...

Alice Liu:
Whoa! I've been wondering how would the Maurauders react to Harry's life and here we go! YOU ARE THE BEST! All the characters are consistent with their personalities shown in the book! I love how you compare Lily with Molly and it's definitely true for her being a mother! I wish Peter comes have ...

MegaRogueLegend666:
I love this story so much. It's impossible to describe my excitement with each new chapter in words. The author has such a good writing style, very good descriptions of the fighting and character descriptions/emotions. the plot is also amazing! This fanfic could be a side anime show or novel ......

Hudson:
Your story was fantastic Erin! The Rising Sun was one of the first stories I read on Inkitt, and I have to say I don't regret the three to four days I spent pouring through the story.Probably the biggest strength I see in your writing is your characterisation of Eliana, Oriens, and the rest of th...

Chris Rolfe:
BOY!!! I sure love what Aer-Ki Jyr did with this series. IMHO he captured the essence of what stargate is all about. Thru out the Stargate stories Aer-Ki wrote Stevens and John Shepard some of the main characters in his stories are pursued by a corrupt I.O.A.. All the while Stevens is changing in...

dd1226:
I love reading about other countries and I think this story about Cambodia after Polpot creates awareness of the tragedy that happened there and the actions of the U.N. to hold elections. The heroine of the story is easy to relate to, a modern, middleaged woman looking for an adventure, wanting t...

Felisa Yoder Osburn:
I really enjoyed the story. Civil War stories are some of my favorites and the intertwining of the past with current times was wonderful. I look forward to reading the next stories.

Prasino45:
Hi! I happen to see your updated chapter on FF.NET!It happened to be about you coming onto Inkitt with this story! I've been a fan for a while! I'm a scqualphie writer myself. I ship them HARD! Love this story! I'm gonna do a reread as you said you changed some things! Glad we both made the switc...

ernbelle:
When I first started this story I was a little unsettled by all of the information that appears in the prologue, and wasn't sure if I would continue. However, I am very glad I did. The plot was very well thought out and really interesting. There were not any page breaks or markers to acknowledge ...